


(Un)lost

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: The Distance [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence, Pre-Slash, Spoilers through Season 4, mentions of Jennifer/Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8808970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: The thing that surprised Derek the most was that Stiles was not a very tactile person at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Will probably be part of a small series.

The thing that stuck out the most to Derek was that Stiles was not a very tactile person at all.

 

At first he thought it was his fault. Really, slamming him against walls (and steering wheels) weren’t the best way get acquainted with someone, especially after asking them to cut one of his arms off just a few weeks before. So it seemed natural that Stiles would keep even a small distance between the two of them at all times, if they were even in the vaguest vicinity of each other. Derek didn’t mind, because he wasn’t all that touchy-feely either (not since Laura.)

 

But over time, he realized it wasn’t just with himself. Stiles kept space around him no matter who he was with. Sure, there were exceptions, like Scott, who was constantly reaching out to whoever was nearest at the time. Allison was always just within reach, and Lydia didn’t seem to have a problem with small touches here and there that hardly meant anything to her. Stiles allowed it, even leaned into it once or twice from what Derek could see, but he hardly ever initiated touch himself. He was obnoxiously loud and a whirlwind of movement, but never too close, and never for too long.

 

It wasn’t until tragedy struck that Stiles seemed to forget the boundaries. He caught Derek before he could hit the ground without even thinking about it, holding him up in the pool for hours. He combed Erica’s hair back from her face as she seized, cradling her in his lap like it was nothing. But then the danger passed and he stood up and brushed himself off like nothing had happened.

 

When he saw Stiles again, the night Erica and Boyd were taken and after slamming into Jackson with his jeep, he hardly paid enough attention beyond the cut on his cheek and the bruises that disappeared under the neckline of his shirt. He held himself stiffly like it hurt to move, and after Gerard crawled away, Derek wondered how extensive the bruising was.

 

The first time he saw him over the summer, it was because he had tracked Peter to the police station. Stiles was organizing old files at one of the many empty desks (courtesy of the kanima) and Peter leaned against it, smirking at Stiles like he would eat him. Derek could hear what they were saying from outside the building, could hear Stiles’ forced politeness as he explained why Peter couldn’t see the old Hale file and Peter’s cajoling tone that made Derek’s skin prickle uncomfortably. He didn’t pay too much attention, but then Peter got too close and Stiles flinched _hard_ , scrambling out of the way like he’d been burned.

 

Derek stepped in as casually as he could, walking to the desk and catching Peter by the arm. “What’re you doing here, Peter?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Stiles running a hand through his hair before gathering the scattered files and putting them back into order.

 

“Thought I’d take a look at the old file,” Peter replied, eyes glinting. “But Stiles here isn’t interested in showing me.”

 

“It’s against policy to show files to undead werewolves who mauled a teenage girl and tried to _bite me_ ,” Stiles muttered without looking up. Derek didn’t realize his grip had tightened until Peter shot a glare at him and shook him off. The finger-shaped bruises were already leaving his skin, but the evidence was there.

 

“Time to go,” Derek growled, shoving Peter until he turned and sauntered out of the station. He turned back to Stiles. “You never mentioned that he tried to bite you,” he added to him.

 

“There were more important problems,” Stiles said quietly. “Kate had you strung up and we were trying to find you at the time. Then Jackson happened and…” He trailed off. “Look, if you hear anything about Erica and Boyd, let me know. They tried to stop Gerard from ripping me apart back in the basement. I owe them.” He bit his lip. “And if you need any help…”

 

Derek gave a short nod, gazed at him a second longer, and then followed Peter out the door, just barely resisting the urge to shove him against it and growl in his face. It lasted all of two blocks before Derek shoulder-checked him so hard that Peter fell right into the path of a car on the road. He didn’t look back to check that the squeal of tires meant that they’d stopped before hitting the undead werewolf.

 

**

 

Stiles leaned against the wall while Scott explained to Derek what his tattoo meant, interjecting once but content to watch—at least until Derek brought out the blowtorch. Derek grabbed the front of his shirt when he tried to leave, and Stiles held onto Scott’s shoulders for a minute after he passed out just to be sure. Derek didn’t turn the fire away until the rings appeared around Scott’s arm, and then Stiles backed up and turned away from the smell of burnt skin. His eyes flitted to Isaac across the room. “Is he okay?” he asked quietly.

 

“He will be,” Derek answered just as quietly, without offering anything else.

 

He didn’t have to. “Something’s here, isn’t it,” Stiles said, looking at Derek. “Isaac shouldn’t be taking this long to heal.”

 

Derek frowned. “How do you—?”

 

“I know what it looks like when someone’s hurt on the inside,” Stiles told him with a humorless laugh. “I saw a lot of it back when my mom was…” He shook his head. “I spent a lot of time at the hospital.” He turned and walked past Scott to stand next to Derek, keeping that space between them that he always did. “So what is it?”

 

Derek shook his head. “I don’t know.”

 

“Bullshit,” Stiles said immediately, but he looked resigned. “How long?” When Derek didn’t answer, he went on. “Do you think it has Boyd and Erica?”

 

Derek bit down on his lip hard to stop himself from—what? Snapping at Stiles to shut up? Revealing everything he knew (which wasn’t much)? But Scott was stirring now, waking with a gasp, and Stiles’ mouth shut with an audible click. Derek took a moment to be grateful.

 

But it didn’t last long, before he was telling the two of them everything he knew anyways, and Scott got that look on his face, the one that meant that he was disappointed and upset that Derek hadn’t told them before. Stiles’ expression was unreadable, but Derek could feel his gaze burning into the back of his head when he turned to look at Isaac and ask him about the girl. When he looked back at him, Stiles didn’t look away, and Derek felt the strangest sense of guilt before he was distracted into action once more.

 

**

 

Derek watched Stiles lose himself for a moment when they were discussing how to go about breaking into the old bank, when the teenager turned and grabbed his fist, positioning it right in front of his outstretched hand. He touched Derek so easily that he jolted, and hit harder than he might have if he hadn’t been so surprised (and irritated and anxious and geared up for a fight). The shutter slammed back down the moment Stiles was on his feet.

 

**

 

Stiles stood ankle-deep in water for a long time after Derek ordered everyone to get out, resting a hand on his shoulder like it was nothing. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Boyd, from Cora slumped over his body, shaking with sobs. Stiles’ fingers twitched slightly, pinky just barely brushing over the exposed skin of Derek’s neck, and he let his head fall, let the tears track down his cheeks to mingle with the water already there.

  
Stiles didn’t let go until Derek pushed himself to his feet, didn’t go too far until they decided what to do with Boyd. He stayed with Derek and Cora all the way to the preserve, where they buried him next to the stream that wound its way by the shell of the Hale house. And then he silently took them both to his house and made up a nest of blankets on the floor for Derek and changed his bed sheets for Cora. Dawn was just upon them when Derek collapsed into the blankets, wrapped in Stiles’ scent everywhere from the clothes he borrowed to the nest itself, and fell asleep before he remembered to say thank you.

 

When he woke up, the sun was high over the trees, Cora was sound asleep, and Stiles was gone.

 

**

 

Derek let Jennifer touch him everywhere, and she fully intended to kill fifteen people, ending with Stiles’ and Scott’s parents. Stuck in the hospital, Stiles got right up in his face to yell at him about his terrible taste in the women he fucked, and for a second Derek was caught in blind panic. _How does he know about Kate?_ But his little sister was dying and there was a pack of alphas trying to kill them all, so he and Stiles focused on shooting Scott and Peter up with some drug they found in a drawer. Derek had a wild thought about being told in elementary school how dangerous taking unknown drugs and would have laughed hysterically if they hadn’t all been seconds from being torn apart.

 

It couldn’t have been more than an hour later that Derek caught Stiles’ wrist just before it collided with his face, barely believing his own reflexes after Jennifer took him down. Stiles was pulling him to his feet almost before he was ready, talking so quickly that Derek could barely understand anything he was saying. It wasn’t until he was rushing toward Isaac and Peter that it processed in his head that Scott went with Deucalion, and Stiles saved his little sister’s life, at least for now. He’d forgotten to thank him again for it. He told himself later, but after giving up his power to bring Cora back from the edge and fighting Deucalion and learning that Stiles, Scott and Allison died to save their parents, he and Cora left without saying goodbye.

 

**

 

Stiles was the nogitsune. Derek spent two days looking for him before he was told, and continued to look after.

 

**

 

Chris Argent pointed a gun at Stiles’ head, Sheriff Stilinski pointed a gun at Argent, and Derek stared at the spirit using the boy’s body and tried to connect its stillness to Stiles’ constant movement and running mouth. The nogitsune was wearing Stiles’ face, but it wasn’t Stiles looking back at Derek when it turned around and slammed him back into the wall.

 

It wasn’t Stiles in his head telling him to burn Chris Argent alive.

 

It wasn’t Stiles and Derek clung to that even as he doused Argent in gasoline. He clung to it and he fought and when Scott called to tell him that they separated Stiles and the nogitsune, he let it sink down into his stomach and thought for a split second that everything would be easier from here.

 

**  


Allison took a sword through the stomach.

 

The nogitsune was trapped where they’d once kept Talia Hale’s claws.

 

Isaac left with Argent.

 

And Stiles didn’t touch anyone.

 

It was how Derek knew he was dreaming before even counting the fingers on Stiles’ left hand, because Stiles let him take it without protesting.

 

**

 

The Sheriff’s son had an arm wrapped around his shoulders and was calling him Miguel without a misstep, but Derek could feel how his whole body was tense where they touched. There was something uncomfortably familiar about it.

 

His world shattered again in seconds and he blamed this Stiles because he kept it from him. But it didn’t matter, because Kate came for him and he led her down to the vault beneath the school, and she…she wasn’t human. In a panic he fled for the sound of fighting up above, tearing towards it and falling straight into the middle of the action without a second thought for these people he didn’t recognize.

 

**

 

Derek remembered.

 

**

 

Scott’s beta insisted on coming with them to Mexico to rescue Scott and Kira from Kate, despite it being the night of the full moon. Liam was losing control and his claws were inches from Derek’s throat, and he couldn’t defend himself, couldn’t feel the moon, was completely human. He finally knew what it was like to be Stiles, and couldn’t understand why Stiles was reaching for Liam rather than backing away, trying to pry him away from Derek. “What three things cannot long be hidden?” he said urgently.

 

Amazingly, it was this mantra that made Liam’s claws retract, his teeth become blunt again, his grip to loosen. He repeated it until he was fully human and able to breathe without trying to tear Derek apart, and Stiles stayed between them as much as he could until Liam closed his eyes and leaned back against the inside of the vehicle. Derek sighed and let the tension roll out of his shoulders, saw Braeden turn back to the road. Stiles patted his shoulder and stayed close enough for their knees to knock together.

 

Derek wondered when he’d become someone that Stiles didn’t mind contact with.

 

A few minutes later, he was bleeding out on the ground and yelling for Stiles to go get Scott, and Stiles was staring at him like he was just now realizing that Derek was something important to him. Derek swallowed and told him to go one last time, and at last Stiles disappeared into the church. Braeden stayed with him until his vision faded and the last things he could hear were her near-silent sobs and gunshots ringing through the air.

 

**

 

Derek evolved into a wolf and Kate disappeared into the desert.

 

He decided to do the same with Braeden.

 

He gazed back at the pack he had considered his since he came back to Beacon Hills, searching the faces of each. Scott gave him a nod and a quick grin, and then his eyes shifted to Stiles without his permission. The boy he’d met over a year ago was someone different now, someone more powerful and sure of himself. He looked devastated, and for a moment Derek wanted to cross to him and…he didn’t know. Reassure Stiles that he was real, alive, solid. But Braeden was looking at him expectantly, so he turned and swung into the army truck, firmly closing the door behind him.

 

Derek didn’t look back.

 

**

 

Braeden was laser-focused in her search, sometimes forgetting about Derek entirely, though never more than a few hours. Their nights were spent tangled together so closely that sometimes he couldn’t figure out where all of his limbs were. It was nice, waking up with someone in the middle of the night and knowing she would look after him, and Derek after her.

 

But she wasn’t a pack, and although once upon a time it had just been him and Laura, he felt lonely. It took six months for Braeden to turn to him one night and force him to look her in the eye. “You don’t have to stay with me,” she told him. “I know that you need more than this.”

 

“I’m happy,” he tried to say, but he could hear the lie in his voice. He was happy with her, but Derek wanted to stay still for awhile, to find somewhere and settle down. Maybe live in a little house near the mountains and…and.

 

And that wouldn’t happen with Braeden.

 

“How long have you been searching for the Desert Wolf?” he asked her.

 

“Four years,” she told him, leaning her hip against the hood of the SUV and crossing her arms. “And it won’t be finished when I find her. You know that, don’t you?” She sighed. “I can’t give you what you want, Derek. Not now, maybe not for a long time.”

 

“I was going to stay with you,” he said softly. But he knew.

 

She smiled sadly. “You need a family, Der.” She came to him and pressed the lightest of kisses to his cheek and then put her forehead to his shoulder. “You need a pack.”

 

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his nose to her hair, and tried not to feel like he was falling to pieces.

 

**

 

He tried to join Cora’s pack in D.C. They welcomed him with open arms, happy to meet the older brother that Cora talked about so much, and he did his best to be as happy as they were. Occasionally he would get text messages from Scott, letting him know what was going on. None of it sounded very good, but Stiles was finally beginning to seem like his old self, before the nogitsune. Derek couldn’t resist texting back after that one.

 

**How much like his old self are we talking?**

Scott took nearly an entire day to respond.

 

**Intensely focused on figuring out what the fuck is going on in this town.**

 

Derek frowned. That wasn’t what he’d been hoping for. But then, he couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised. Stiles had been through hell twice over. He couldn’t dwell on it for long, because Cora’s pack was insistent on mandatory movie nights, no phones allowed, and he put it down and walked away.


End file.
